When Alice had been a child and had felt sick or sad, she had usually been able to restrain herself, until mother would gently place a hand on her back or forehead and ask her if something was wrong, and then, suddenly, the floodgates would open. This act of kindness had quite the same effect. Alice took the handkerchief, but instantly began to cry again, trying to wipe her tears with the piece of cloth in vain. Part of her wanted to shout out at this stranger, this Mr. Faffly, to help her, to rescue her from the trap that had ensnared her. But she knew he couldn't help her. No one could help her now, for there was only one sensible path open to her. She had committed terrible sins, and now she was to pay for them. The girl sniffed as she tried to stop herself from sobbing. "I'm sorry, Mr. Faffly... Alice Ward..." She managed to look up at his face for a moment. "Thank you," she said - weakly, but she meant it.